No Pictures But A Lot of Words

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My two "olders" and I were alone tonight and I was feeling a bit lonely without Awesome Husby around. Noah was busy playing games on the computer, Marilyn was puttering around doing not much of anything and I was feeling sorry for myself. Then I had an awesome idea that changed our whole night. I don't have any pictures of it to add to this post but I want to create one with my words so that years from now I will remember how sweet it was. 

We've just gotten back into our school routine and that means I'm reading a novel to them aloud in the mornings while they eat their breakfast. Max tolerates this but my older two - they LOVE it. So do I. 

We're reading Tennis Shoes Among the Nephites, which came out when I was 12 and solidly into my Christian only music phase of life so of course I adored that book. My "olders" are enthralled with it too. So tonight when I got lonely and didn't want to put them to bed I made them makeshift beds on the living room floor, turned on our lamp for some ambiance, and I read to them for almost 2 hours. They didn't want me to stop so I just kept going. Until I my voice just couldn't take it anymore and then we went out for ice cream.

Reading is so multifaceted. It's so interactive rather than television's passive. Don't get me wrong; I love a little passive TV binging at the end of the day when I am D.O.N.E. but there is nothing in this world that delights me in the way an author does with their carefully crafted words. Sharing that with my "littles" fulfills and thrills me. Reading aloud to my children brings us all into the story's trance, as if all of our imaginations are magically linked together and we're all seeing the same thing even though there are no pictures. We're not just sitting next to each other. Even from different parts of the room, or even different rooms as it is when I read in the morning when I sit on the stairs so Noah can hear from his bed, Max can hear from his room, and Marilyn can hear from the breakfast table, we are all interacting together. My children love to tell me what they think will happen next or what a certain part makes them think of or wish for. I love to ask them questions to make sure they understand what's happening or, even better, help them think through a social situation they may or may not have faced before. 

This morning a few of the main character's friends were bullying another boy and I stopped to talk with my kids about that. Noah has had a hard time at school and has sometimes been on both sides of the bully situation. Without any prompting and in a way that we haven't ever specifically talked about Noah said about the characters that were bullying, "Maybe they aren't bad kids. Maybe they are just a bunch of kids that feel like they get made fun of a lot." He identified. It made my heart sad but it also opened the door for us to talk in a meaningful way that he will connect with on a deeper level about not fitting in and about bullying.

I LOVE literature. I need it. I appreciate it. I admire it.

And I'm so very grateful to be able to pass that love on to my children. 

Tonight was a very good night.

My Morning's Mental Meanderings

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Last night after my children went to bed I celebrated my freedom and then almost cried. I was busy wiping their dirty hand prints off the walls and I realized that I'm half way through the work I longed and worked for years to have the privilege of doing. These children of mine are halfway raised. Ugh!

Ok. Now I'm not crying, I'm bawling.

There is nothing more in my life I'd rather do than mother. Sometimes I get so exasperated. Sometimes I get so worried. Sometimes I'll admit that I count down the years until they leave my house and are grown but most of the time I really, really love being a mother and all of the time I cherish my opportunity to spend my life serving these little ones. How they fill my heart!

Last night I tucked Noah into bed and he was so very tired that it was all he could do to barely open his lids to check I was there while he snuggled into his blankets. He asked for "fifty kisses", a sweet Noah-made tradition where we gently kiss his cheeks 50 times because one time isn't enough for my affection gobbling son. After the 50 he lifted his heavy eyelids and contentedly asked for "Just 15 more?" and when I told him I would he said with earnest endearment, "I love my Mommy."

My dear Noah, my sweetest Max, my precious Marilyn, your mother loves you too - with her whole mommy heart. How will I ever bear it when they are grown and gone? I'm dreading those years when my babies are grown and my husby isn't retired yet. I've got a very short career and nothing in this life will ever be as wonderful, as taxing, as fulfilling, and as sweet as RIGHT NOW.

Just What I Needed

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Yesterday had quite a few bad parts to it. I'm hoping for the adage that in time your heart only remembers the good so I'm not even going to write the bad about yesterday down. What I will write is this:

The last thing we do together as a family each night is to read some scriptures together. It's not always as peaceful as it sounds like it might be. I blocked all of that out and turned to my Marilyn who was sitting near me on the stairs. I took her hand in mine and memories and feelings of our life together started coming back to me and the stresses of the day felt less heavy. How grateful I am for this living angel in my life! She doesn't generally like to have others touch her but she loves having her Mama give her loves. She tenderly reached out her other hand to mine held it sweetly. That's not a gesture I take for granted, even now, nearly four years after she joined our family and it brought tears to my eyes. She is just what I needed.

In that sweet moment I remembered the days of firsts that we experienced those four years ago. 

The first time she held my hand as we walked from the office where we registered her adoption to the place we had our picture taken to go with our official adoption decree. We had to walk across a busy road and Chris and I held one of her hands in each of ours. She trembled and cried the whole way. I'm sure she was terrified. What trust she put in us - her stranger parents.

Just an hour or two later we held her hands again as she walked with us from the van that had taken her from her orphanage and we walked with her through the turnstile doors of our hotel to be alone with her for the first time. Her grief and fear was palpable and watching her walk through those doors into the rest of her life was the bravest thing I've ever seen another human do. 

The following day we held her hand as she smiled, we all sweated, and we climbed the Great Wall of China. We laughed together as we taught her some of her first English words to help her navigate the rough and uneven steps all along the wall, "Big step! Small step!"

And then there was our trip to the zoo a week later when she was so completely exhausted and she let me hold her for the first time. I was hot and exhausted too but my little girl was letting me hold her and I would've carried her until I was utterly spent, so great was the opportunity.

Then came our first 4th of July ever just a few short weeks after you came home to America. We walked hand in hand on our way to the parade singing the ABC's, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and every other English song we both knew the entire way.

There have been so many sweet, endearing, bonding moments since. Overnight mommy-daughter sleepovers at fancy hotels. Long conversations while making dinner together. Craft projects, coloring, shopping and more. Happy, happy moments.

Dear, sweet Marilyn, you brighten my life and lighten my load. As I cradled your cheek in my hand last night I felt once more the privilege it is to be your mother and have you as my precious, precious daughter. I love you so much. Each of my children filled up an empty, aching part of my heart, but you my dear, my last, filled it to full.

The Moment After

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First of all, just look at what a young lady my pretty daughter is turning in to! 

We took these right before her piano recital when she was feeling beautiful and excited and it shows on her face. I hope she knows how precious she is to me. I try to tell and show her. I tried really hard after the recital when the parents could finally go up and congratulate their students. She was not happy with how she did, but I was. One of the things I love about her is her determination to succeed, but she is so hard on herself when there are bumps in the road. I guess I know how that feels first hand...

Lessons are so much easier to learn when you are watching your child because you love them so unconditionally. What I saw and heard at her recital was a gallant young lady who courageously played in front of a group of people even though she was nervous. I saw a beautiful young girl learning grace when, instead of quitting during a difficult moment, she pulled herself together and finished. I was incredibly proud of her and it was such a great example to me. 

We shouldn't be afraid of trying our hardest and making a mistake. It's that moment right after the mistake when a person keeps going and finishes her efforts that is the most beautiful.

My sweet daughter, thanks for teaching that to me.